under the portuguese sun.

there is something about the portuguese sun.

maybe it's in the air.

or maybe it's deeply rooted in the soil.

but it has a kind of way of romancing you.

grabbing you by the waist and sweeping you off your feet.

spinning you around until your dizzy and moving you till your feet ache.

the hot sun that makes certain to kiss every inch of you.

or the ocean waves that drag you in like they've been waiting their whole life just for you to take the dive.

there's something about the slow mornings.

the gentle tugging on your bed sheets calling you to the ocean.

daring you to drag your golden limbs to the sand and melt into the fallen stardust.

as honey drips over your bare skin coating you in liquid sunlight.

salty lips and burnt noses sipping cocktails at 3 in the afternoon.

half drunk and slightly burnt by 5, stumbling through narrow streets and cobblestone paths.

as darkness begins to swallow the coastline, cotton candy clouds line the horizon.

the distant humming of music and laughter slowly makes its way through the streets, echoing in the air.

back in the water, head first into the unknown, the darkest of waters, only illuminated by the moonlight.

la luna whispering you soft lullabies, asking you to spill your secrets to the stars.

there's something magical about night time.

something mystical and tempting.

begging you to surrender to the darkness.

to the cool evening breeze that strokes your now crispy skin and gives you goosebumps.

at night time the wild ones come out.

looking for a place to dance and sip sangria and sink into the ocean of people all looking for the same thing.

a one night stand with the moonlit waves.

a secret love affair with the buzzing of the bars.

a summer love under the Portuguese sun.